


In Which Kurt Eats His Feelings

by Stuffy (AlexKingOfTheDamned)



Category: Wolverine and the X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Riding, Stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 16:04:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2513678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexKingOfTheDamned/pseuds/Stuffy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt’s honestly not one to eat his feelings often. The idea has never appealed to him, he always found other ways to express himself. But after being rejected by Ororo four consecutive times, he found his despair growing out of control. He couldn’t keep it under wraps anymore, not with training or teaching or prayer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Kurt Eats His Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission! Let me know if you're interested in commissioning me~

 

A long sigh echoes through the empty lounge. Yellow eyes flick to the clock above the TV; it’s almost four AM. The television has been playing asinine garbage for almost three hours now, but it doesn’t really matter. Kurt hasn’t really been watching.

 

He’s honestly not one to eat his feelings often. The idea has never appealed to him, he always found other ways to express himself. But after being rejected by Ororo four consecutive times, he found his despair growing out of control. He couldn’t keep it under wraps anymore, not with training or teaching or prayer.

 

 _I like you_ , she said. _You’re very close to me. I trust you, I care about you. I’m just… not attracted to you._

Kurt sighs and grabs another handful of fries to nibble on. They’ve gone cold, and he stopped being hungry a long time ago, but at this point it’s just a reflex. His other hand comes to rest on his stomach with a sigh. He had started with quite an assortment of food to choose from, hoping to distract himself from the heartache with a hearty meal.

 

But sampling turned into seconds and now he’s on his back and his belly is a few inches rounder than usual. It’s not huge, and if he stood up in his loose shirt, you wouldn’t really be able to see it. But lying on his back with his shirt draped over him, the curve of his belly is noticeable.

 

He sighs again, his belly rounding and then sagging down again. He grimaces and shimmies his sweat pants lower under his belly so it’ll stop pinching his fur and riding into the curve too tight. His stomach is gurgling and churning, digesting his large meal. Kurt is so out of it that he doesn’t hear a pair of bare feet coming quietly down the hall. He’s massaging his belly with both hands when a figure passes by the doorway. He doesn’t even see her.

 

But she sees him. At first Ororo just sees his tail looped over the back of the couch, but that interests her. She’d been heading to the kitchen for a drink of water, sleep wasn’t coming easily to her that night. But it’s strange to see someone else up at this hour. When she takes a step closer to investigate, her eyes widen.

 

Kurt is lying flat on his back on the couch with several containers of food decimated on the coffee table. His eyes are closed in satisfied pleasure, his belly is full and rounded by a few inches, but it’s nothing truly remarkable. He could do so much better, she thinks with a warm flicker of interest.

 

“Kurt,” she speaks softly so she won’t startle him too much.

 

Golden eyes snap open in alarm and he stares up into the face of Ororo. He feels his cheeks heat up and turn violet as he draws his knees up abruptly to hide the small swell of his belly. He tries to keep his eyes on her face, but it’s hard for them not to roam when she’s wearing nothing but a plunging white silk nightgown and a sheer over-dress. Her hair is rumpled and hanging around her shoulders in tastefully sleep-disheveled locks. Even in the middle of the night she manages to look like a goddess.

 

“Ororo,” he tries to say, but it comes out as a sort of whisper.

 

She sweeps a few empty containers aside and sits on the corner of the table. He’s incapable of resisting when she pushes gently on his knees to straighten out his legs. He stares at her face in awe, unable to believe that this is actually happening, but she’s staring rapturously at his belly as she reaches a palm out and lays it over the curve. She lifts his shirt and smooths her hand down his furred belly, and he watches with a shudder when she licks her lips.

 

When she speaks, “Could you eat more?” he moans out loud.

 

 

====

 

Kurt falls back on Ororo’s bed with a whine, bouncing on the covers. He clutches his belly, huge and heaving and round, shaking from head to toe as she leans down for a passionate, syrup-flavored kiss.

 

If he had known that this was the way to her heart, he would have started eating his feelings a long time ago. He can’t believe how much she got him to eat.

 

When she dragged him to the kitchen, he could hardly register it was actually happening. She sat him at the counter on a stool and rubbed his belly and apologized to him for ever thinking she found him unattractive, now that she knows he can eat like this. “Too skinny” she’d said.

 

Pancakes were made. So many pancakes. Kurt ate a stack of five, and then a stack of six. He’d already eaten so much, but he just kept going when she kept putting them in front of him. She would pause between making them just to come rub his growing belly, so hard and tight and unfeasibly round. She kissed and sucked his ears and palmed him through his trousers and whispered gentle encouragements, “ _Eat, please eat for me._ ”

 

He was deliriously horny and overfed, but he kept eating for her. Whipped cream and maple syrup and orange juice to wash it down, twelve, thirteen, fourteen pancakes stuffed into his belly. He was shaking by the end of it, too full to breathe, and she carried him to her room.

 

His stomach aches and churns, it should be impossible to eat this much. She rucks up her night gown and holds onto the globe of his stomach and grinds down on his lap. He can only moan, open-mouthed, burping up sticky syrup and trying to keep his titanic meal down.

 

When she slipped her panties aside just far enough to sink down on him, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. He could only whimper as she used his belly as a handle, digging her perfect nails into his fur and skin. He grips her sheets with his hands and toes, his tail thrashing like an excited cat as she drops her body over his prick with increasing speed.

 

He can barely hear her when she says things to him, praising how much he ate, praising his belly, the size and weight of it. Her voice is a sweet, lulling buzz in his ears, he can’t decipher words but he knows the general meaning. And if she stopped right now and told him to eat ten more pancakes before she’d continue, he knows he would.

 

His orgasm mounts and he shakes as her hand wedges between them to tease herself, putting enormous pressure on the bottom of his heaving belly. He arches when she does, her muscles fluttering and rippling around her when her pelvic floor gives way for a shaking, crying orgasm. She throws her head back, hair going every which way as she grinds down on him through his, shooting into her with a strangled, syrup-flavored moan.

 

She slumps over his stomach, pulling him into another kiss. He wraps his arms around her shoulders despite the enormous pressure on his gut, and kisses her back fiercely.

 

“Let’s wait for this to settle,” she whispers, massaging the sides of his belly while still laying atop it, and kisses sticky sweetness from the corners of his mouth. “And then in an hour, I want you to eat more.”

 

He agrees. He’d agree to eat anything, if that’s what’ll make him attractive to her. Even when she feeds him a pound of pasta an hour later and his belly gets so full it hurts, he keeps eating. He figures this is what it’s like to be in love.


End file.
